


Out of a Black and White World

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Eureka
Genre: Crossover, Original Character(s), Post Episode AU: s03e13 Last of the Time Lords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 15:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5790643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martha moves on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of a Black and White World

**Author's Note:**

> Guess I fell too fast/Guess I learned my lesson,  
> So much for true love/I’ll take the Chivas instead --Kelly Clarkson, "Chivas"

Breaking your own heart was not for the faint of heart, Martha Jones realized, a week after passing her medical boards with high honors, two days after her parents moved back in together, and twelve days after telling the Doctor she was done with him.

Worst of it was, besides her family, who’d spent more time with the Doctor in the past year that no longer was than she had, nobody knew why Martha’s heart was broken. She’d told everyone else she’d gone on a study vacation to Brighton, everyone had chuckled knowingly, and now Martha Jones, MD, was staring at a bottle of whiskey and contemplating dialing him up and pleading to be taken back, apologizing for all that self-confidence.

She’d even dialed the number fourteen times, but every time, she pressed end instead of send. Because Martha didn’t have the words to surrender herself like that. Not even drunk on two-thirds of a bottle, plus half a dozen alcopops she’d chugged like a fifth-year before a school disco.

She’d tried to say them: “I’m sorry. I miss you. I understand that you don’t love me. Take me back,” but something always revolted in her before her throat could make the sounds.

Til finally, at four-thirty in the morning, Martha had her thumb hovering over the glowing green letters of the send key, taken a deep breath, and thrown up all over her new mobile and the floor.

Not long after, she’d staggered to the couch and passed out, pointedly **not** holding her mobile.

Martha woke up at eleven forty-three am, with a mouth tasting of manky boot, eyes that felt like they’d been needled by the sodding Toclafane, a head swimming in sewer water and pain, and her still-beating heart.

Oh, and the persistent beat of someone knocking on the door of her flat.

“Oh, _come off it_!” she shouted, looking to see if there were still chunks of spew in her hair, and if the towel hiding her mess was still in place. Good, it was.

Martha threw open the door after a quick, quick rub of her mouth with the back of her hand, expecting to see her mum, or a mate from school, or anything except two strangers, one of whom was clearly a copper.

“Martha Jones?” the other one asked, a dark-haired bloke with a beard. “This is Martha Jones’s apartment, right?”

And they were Yank coppers; just bloody wonderful. Maybe UNIT was recruiting. “Yeah, I’m Martha Jones,” Martha said, feeling wobbly. “Who are you?”

“My name is Nathan Stark,” the man said, holding out a hand. “This is my associate, Jack Carter. We have reason to believe you are a key agent in a recent temporal loop that our scientists recorded thirteen days ago.”

Martha blinked. “Are you taking the piss?” she asked. “A recent temporal loop? Your scientists? Who are you, the CIA?”

Nathan Stark glared, and his associate snorted. “Excuse him, Dr. Jones,” the man said. “We’re pretty sure he’s human, but every so often, Nathan here forgets how to relate to his species. Jack Carter, sheriff of Eureka, Washington. Can we come in? I promise, we’re going to explain what we want, but it’s all that top-secret, hush-hush, let’s not explain in public hallways stuff that I’m guessing you’re aware of.”

“Oh,” Martha said. “Come in, I guess. My flat’s a bit of a mess, I’m afraid, and I’d like to clean up before we get to the top-secret hush-hush.”

Jack Carter nodded, letting his boss — and it was dead obvious that Nathan was the boss — enter before him. He gave Martha a sympathetic look before he shut the door.

“Well, right,” Martha said, looking at the two Americans. “Give me ten minutes, will you?”

“Of course, Dr. Jones,” Nathan said smoothly, sitting down on the cushion Martha had spent the last few hours crying and drooling on in her drunken passed-out state. “We await your pleasure.”

“Geez, Nathan,” said Jack, rolling his eyes. “I know we’re in merry olde England, but could you cut the crap just a little? Take your time, Doc. We tried to call first, but your phone didn’t answer.”

“No, it’s…indisposed,” Martha said, fleeing for the toilet.

Some things were just not to be explained, and the fate of her mobile was among them.

* * *

Eleven minutes and forty seconds later, Martha came back from the toilet, feeling a little less filthy, though the hangover and sour stomach were a bit worse. Jack Carter was looking at her pictures, and Nathan Stark was still sitting on her drool.

That did make Martha feel a bit better, as she sat down on the chair across from the couch and tried to breathe. “So, let’s have it, then. Are you with UNIT?”

“No, ma’am, we’re not,” Jack said, shaking his head emphatically. Clearly, he didn’t think much of UNIT; good on him.

“Though UNIT is one of our clients,” Nathan added. “I represent the town of Eureka. It’s an American project, founded by Albert Einstein, to give the best minds of the US a place to live and…”

“Blow things up,” Martha supplied dryly. Jack hid a smile, while Nathan half-scowled, cut-off in mid-monologue.

“Such is the cost of progress,” Nathan said, a bit pompously. “Now, thanks to Eureka’s connections to the Department of Defense and other international agencies, such as UNIT, we’ve been able to pinpoint that just after the assassination of the president by Harold Saxon, the now-deceased Prime Minister of Britain, a massive temporal event happened and was, ah, overwritten. You’re the only participant in that event whose existence isn’t classified –”

“Officially classified, anyway,” Jack Carter said with a friendly little shrug. “I had a pretty good lunch with that Harkness guy. And the other guy, that alien? There’s about fifty people who could tell you all about him, and they say you’re the one to talk to.”

Martha regarded them both rather coolly. “So you want me to tell you about the alien?” she asked. “Go ask the Harkness guy or UNIT. They’ve got loads on him.”

“We’re interested in the lost year,” Jack said. “Harkness was good at filling in what happened on the Valiant, and what the hell that Saxon guy was, but he doesn’t know what happened on the ground.”

“Moreover, we’re interested in you, Dr. Jones,” added Nathan smoothly. “You’re clearly a resourceful, intelligent woman. And Eureka Central Hospital would like to offer you a residency.”

“You came here to give me a job? In the States? In some insane little town founded by Albert Einstein?” Martha asked incredulously. “Actually, that doesn’t sound half-bad.”

Nathan and Jack both looked as surprised as Martha felt; they’d clearly expected her to rant and rave and rail. Martha had expected the same thing, because clearly, Nathan Stark had ulterior motives. Jack, perhaps not. He kept looking at her with a disconcerting sort of sympathy; didn’t hurt he was a nice-looking bloke, either.

“So you’ll take the residency?” Nathan asked.

“I didn’t say _that_ ,” Martha countered tartly. “But if it’s possible, I’d like to visit. See what I’m getting into. If it’s all on the level and it’s a good match, I might take it.”

“Of course,” Nathan said smoothly. “Would you be able to leave tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Martha said just as smoothly. “Won’t I have to sign about a billion non-disclosure agreements and all that rubbish, though?”

Jack Carter chuckled. “Smart girl,” he said. “I’m sure. Fargo — that’s our IT guy — is probably drawing up papers as we speak. Plus, Nathan probably has all kind of flashy science experiments that could erase your brain.”

Martha froze. “Really?” she asked Nathan.

“Selective memory modification is one of our security measures,” Nathan said. “Of course we wouldn’t employ it on someone who didn’t consent.”

Jack and Martha snorted together. “I don’t believe him,” Martha said.

“That’s because you’re smart,” Jack said. “So, despite the fact Nathan here is kind of a jackass, are you still up for a visit? I think you’d like the town, and no matter what else, you’d be a great match for the residency position and come highly recommended.”

Martha looked away — and directly at the towel covering the spew.

Well, it couldn’t be worse than listening to the blues and cursing all men for bastards, drinking too much, and making a sodding mess all over her apartment.

“Yes, I think I will,” Martha said. “But I want an aisle seat, if that’s all right.”

Nathan and Jack exchanged a grin. “That’s fine,” Nathan said. “Easily done.”

“All right, then,” Martha said, wondering what the grins were all about.

Oh, well, she’d know soon enough.

* * *

“You have your own plane?” asked Martha, boggling as she sat down in a leather seat that was five times posher than anything she’d ever sat in before, as Nathan Stark poured her a mimosa. “Well, that’s brilliant, isn’t it?”

“Only the best for the best and brightest, I say,” Nathan replied with a smug grin. Behind him, Jack rolled his eyes and pulled a face. “The plane’s been fitted out with the best. We’ll be in Eureka in approximately three hours, so feel free to use the bar, or fix yourself something from the kitchen.”

Martha found herself giggling a bit; did he really think she was going to be wowed by a bit of luxury after she’d gone to meet Shakespeare? And saved the world? Honestly, it was a nice plane, and clearly, if it only took three hours to fly from London to the west coast of the US, it had extra-special technology attached, but she could have guessed that much from the backstory she’d already been told about Eureka.

“Nathan likes to show off,” Jack said. “He hopes that you’ll be impressed, because he really, really wants to grill you about the guy with the magic time box. Because Nathan can’t stand not to have the best toys.”

“Thank you, Sheriff Carter,” Nathan said coldly. “Why did you have to come along?”

“Because, Nathan, after my exposure to the artifact, I thought we wanted Dr. Jones to have someone who’s shared the experience of living through events that were taped over,” Jack said with a very good-natured seriousness.

Martha’s mouth dropped open. “Wait, do you remember, then? The Toclafane?” she asked.

“No, this was a different set of world-ending events,” Jack said with a quick shake of his head. “But it’s one of the reasons you’d do well in Eureka, Martha. You wouldn’t be the only one who remembered things that never happened.”

Her heart shivered in her chest, and she looked at Jack Carter a little more closely. There was something in his eye that told her he understood that it was more than living through a year of hell; he knew. He knew about the Doctor.

Martha found herself nodding. “Well, that’s a good start,” she said. “So…I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours, Sheriff. How’s that sound?”

Jack Carter nodded, and gave Nathan a look. “I’ll do that. Nathan, give us some privacy, will ya?” he asked.

“Of course,” Nathan said, to Martha’s surprise. “I need to catch up on the memos that came this morning, anyway.”

He walked off without further protest, and Martha looked at Jack for explanation. “He grows on you. Kind of like mold,” Jack said. “He’s pompous and ambitious, but he’s got a few good points. So…you loved him, huh?”

“With all my heart,” Martha said softly, looking down at her hands. “But I want you to know, the Doctor didn’t leave me. I left him.”

“Yeah, I guessed that,” Jack admitted, putting a hand through his hair. “This Doctor guy, he sounds like someone you don’t forget.”

“No,” Martha agreed, letting out a long, shuddering breath. “I keep thinking, I must be mad. He’s the man of my dreams. Of anyone’s dreams. And I left him. I left him twice — first to save the world, and second to save myself.”

Someone else would have filled up that space with words. The Doctor would have talked. Jack Carter nodded, like he understood, not just what Martha meant, but why she wouldn’t really need anyone agreeing with her and trying to comfort her with meaningless words.

She could feel the tears seeping out, rebel tears that were ignoring Martha’s desire to never shed another tear about the Doctor, or what she’d seen over the past year.

“All right, you need a bloody mary,” said Jack, getting up and letting Martha’s evil tears muss her face. “And scrambled eggs. They’re a secret recipe my daughter taught me. Best thing ever for handling time rewrite stress.”

“Thanks,” Martha said sincerely, hiccuping. “What about you?”

“Married the girl,” he said laconically. “We were going to have one of our own. Turned out it was all a lie, an unstable offshoot of space-time. I had to go back and stop my best friend from doing it. He was trying to save someone he loved.”

Martha took a breath and nodded. “Get any easier?”

“I at least get to see her every day,” said Jack.

“Doesn’t answer my question,” Martha said with a wry half-smile as the sheriff pulled out a container from a cabinet and began shaking it. “What are you doing?”

“Making scrambled eggs,” Jack said. “We do have a _few_ tricks in Eureka like you’ve never seen.”

* * *

They had a half-working prototype of a sonic screwdriver. Martha couldn’t help them with it, but just looking at the thing was enough to make her choke on her mango-guava smoothie.

Eureka was definitely not London. It was very green, and rainy — all right, the weather was a bit like London — but there were kids who wrote scientific formulas on the sidewalk, and the cafe where everyone ate, and all sorts of small town bother that rather had Martha staring.

Besides, even if Nathan Stark had ulterior motives for inviting her to Eureka, and it was clear that he did, Eureka Central Hospital was no joke, nor was the residency they were offering.

“Half the problem with staffing this place is that you have to give newbies a month to get past — ‘no, really, that’s not possible, that’s science-frickin-fiction!” said Martha’s possible future mentor, Dr. Sharon Nancy, a quarter-Navajo Buddhist lesbian with one prosthetic foot who’d introduced herself as, “An HR diversity counselor’s wet dream, and the worst nightmare of intelligent miniature worm monstrosities everywhere.”

Martha liked her. A lot. And not just because when Martha had started explaining how she’d been faced with the Judoon on the moon, Dr. Nancy had said, “we have a first day course about what to do when you’re faced with aliens or obvious non-typical equipment. How do you feel about patients with three eyes?”

The offer was looking very good. Ostensibly, Martha’s residency would be in emergency medicine, “which is true,” Dr. Nancy said, “In sort of a weird sense” but they’d be training her to handle mutants, extreme science accidents, possible aliens, and in general, to handle the world that most of humanity was only barely coming to terms with.

“You’d be only the sixteenth doctor in the world to be equipped to handle this,” said Dr. Nancy. “You’ll make, hmm, I’d guess two million a year once you’re finished. The demand for this speciality is only getting higher, and you’ve got all those bonuses from your week tenure with the time-traveling alien.”

Martha froze. “I don’t want to profit off that,” she said stiffly.

Dr. Nancy’s face softened. “Sorry,” she said, pushing hair out of her face. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I meant that working at Eureka Central means you’d have the opportunity to do extraordinary work AND help others. Sort of the physician’s dream come true, no?”

Martha nodded, not quite laughing, but trying to smile. “Yeah, it is,” she said.

“He worked you over good, didn’t he?” Dr. Nancy asked. “I had a girlfriend like that, once. She was beautiful, and smart, and didn’t care about the foot. And I felt like I had to do what she wanted, because she was so wonderful that I couldn’t compare. Even though I’d never felt that way about myself before.”

“He didn’t mean to,” Martha said, taking slow, deep breaths.

“Neither did she,” said Dr. Nancy with a sympathetic look, holding her clipboard between them easily. “Like I said, she was wonderful. But it wasn’t enough in the end. No matter how much she loved me, I felt like I lost compared to her.”

She stuck out her hand then, and Martha, somewhat discomfited, shook it. “I hope you join us here,” Dr. Nancy said, suddenly all business. “I think it’d be good for you, forcing yourself to just…start over.”

“Doesn’t that mean he wins, though?” Martha asked, voicing something she hadn’t meant to. “He shows up in my life, and in a week — well, more like three years, but a week to everyone else — I have to run off to the bloody States to find out who I am without him?”

“Great loves are like that,” Dr. Nancy said. “Also, things like this happen because you want to tell yourself something. Ask yourself, what was wrong with your life that you decided to run off with a strange man with a magic box for three years if it was just him.”

Long, long silence after that, which led to Dr. Nancy leading Martha down to where Sheriff Carter and his deputy, Jo, were waiting. And when Dr. Nancy’s face lit up at the sight of the deputy, Martha wondered…no. Certainly not.

Or maybe yes. More impossible things had happened to Martha. This month, even.

* * *

It rang six times before he answered her mobile.

“Is this a bad time?” Martha asked, looking out over Eureka from her motel room, at how dark it was, even with a full moon. It reminded her of the bad days, of walking alone and fearing the Toclafane.

“No! No!” the Doctor said cheerfully, as something made a dubious noise in the background. “Elaine! Don’t touch…no, that’s not for tea, please…well, I’m a bit rushed, yeah, but I always have time for Martha Jones.”

Martha allowed herself a tiny little smile. “You have a new friend, then?” she asked. “Elaine?”

“What? Oh, yeah, not really a new friend so much as — Elaine, sit over there. Just for now. I promise, we will discuss what we’ve just seen after I finish this call,” he said loudly. “She’s a bit new to the whole idea of time travel. Keeps thinking levers are for pulling. Anyhow, what’s on your mind? D’you need my help? Maybe a lift?”

“I got a new job,” she said, trying to feel something. It hadn’t even been two weeks and he had this, this _Elaine_ person. “Well, I mean, I’ve gotten offered an amazing residency in the States, can you believe that?”

He chuckled. “Sounds like a dream,” the Doctor said. “Congratulations.”

“I have to tell you something,” Martha said, the words coming out in a rush. “You hurt me, Doctor. You hurt me so much that I felt like my heart was cut out of my body. I walked this planet for a year because I loved you. And you didn’t care if I stayed or went. My choice, right?”

“Martha, I…” he said, his voice sounding more foolish and high-pitched, but no. No, Martha was on a roll now, she wasn’t going to let him speak.

“And I know you don’t love me. I know you never did. I know you have a new girlfriend, and I bet she’s blonde and she never asks you about Gallifrey or the last one or for anything, she’s just happy to be in your company,” Martha said, the words practically tumbling over themselves. “But I think you should know how much it hurts, to do something like save the world for someone you love, and have them not care. What you can do, just by _not thinking about it._ ”

Her heart was pounding so fast that she felt like it might burst her chest. Behind her, the TARDIS made a huge half-exploding noise, and screamed like brakes were being applied.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said in a quiet voice, one Martha could barely hear over the TARDIS’s protests and the high-pitched giggle of a girl. God, she sounded sixteen. What did he think, sometimes? Daft bastard.

Lovable, perfect, daft bastard.

“I know. But you did,” said Martha. “And I have one last thing to say to you, Doctor.”

He was silent. Of course he was. He knew what she was going to say. Or maybe he thought he knew.

“I forgive you,” she said, and hung up.

The phone immediately started ringing, but Martha ignored it until it stopped, counting her heartbeats instead of the rings.

When it finally went silent, Martha flipped her phone open and dialed a number with not-quite-stable fingers.

“Dr. Nancy? It’s Martha Jones,” she said. “I wanted you to know that I’m going to take the residency…”

She closed her eyes as a smile, a real smile, grew on her face. Yes. This was right. Martha was doing this for herself, and not to prove anything to him.

She’d survive. Perhaps with a few nights crying and listening to maudlin pop music — she had her Lily Allen CD at the ready — but Martha could move on. She could be in this world of ghosts and monsters and scrambled eggs that came out of boxes perfectly cooked without him.

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m fine,” Martha said as Dr. Nancy’s voice called her out of her reverie and back into her real life. “What do you mean, an enlarged man? Enlarged how?”

All right, it was a creative definition of a real life, Martha thought as her new boss detailed the case, but it was hers, and that was the important thing.

 


End file.
